Following the Footsteps
by violet lily13
Summary: The Marauders. Lily Evans. Severus Snape. They would one day make a difference in the world. They would defend the world against the ultimate evil. But first, they would have to deal with their own hopes, fears, dreams, and realities.
1. Padfoot

**Following the Footsteps**

Disclaimer: all characters and recognizable content belongs to J. K. Rowling.

* * *

**Padfoot**

I could still hear my father's voice shouting at me as I slammed out of the house at 13 Grimmauld Place, calling me a blood traitor and a worthless son. At the time, I was too angry to be bothered by his words, but afterwards, once I was happily ensconced at my best friend's house, I wished the words both of us had said could be taken back.

It all began five years ago when I was sorted into Gryffindor. Since then, I haven't heard the end of it from either of my parents. They said that the hat must have made a mistake, certainly no _Black_ would be placed in such a dishonourable house as_ Gryffindor_. The problems escalated when they discovered my best friends were blood traitors and half-bloods. I could not forgive them for insulting those I felt closer to than anyone in my family and they could not forgive me for making the choice between family and friends.

I chose friends.

My family expected me to join them in the campaign against muggle-borns and half-bloods; I could not. To do so would have meant joining the people I hated most: Malfoy, the Lestrange brothers, Avery, Nott, and _Snivellus_.

That day would never happen.

Sitting in the train compartment with James and Remus, I saw my brother Regulus enter the platform through the wall with a servant. Mother or Father had never come with us to the station, rarely ever did they say goodbye to us either. Regulus looked at the train and must have seen me, because he frowned and looked away. Mother had probably told him to ignore me. From what I had heard from Andromeda, most of the family had disowned me, like they did to her when she married Ted Tonks a few years before.

There was a empty feeling in the pit of my stomach. No, it wasn't that I was hungry, it was that I felt separated from the rest of the world. Even though I still carried the Black family name, I was no longer _one of them_. It wasn't as if I was alone in the world, with friends like I had, that was impossible, but I felt like a balloon released into the atmosphere. I was free.

It was possibly the best feeling I had ever experienced. Losing my family was a sad occasion, I'll grant it that, but I had no ties to the world; I could do as I wished with no one telling me what to do or how to act. I may not have been of age, but the same feeling of freedom ran through my veins.

"How did you two do on your OWLS?" Remus queried, interrupting my thoughts.

"Brilliantly, of course," James answered pompously. "Even old Grimm had to give me an E in potions. Everything else was O's and E's. I still don't know what I'm going to do, though; maybe something in the Ministry or with Gringotts where I can travel."

Remus looked over at me, expecting me to answer similarly. The problem was, though, that my OWL results had been one of the reasons why my parents infuriated me so much. I was expected, as a pureblood from a high-born family, to wow the entire evaluating committee and get O's on everything. But I had not, which made my parents ridicule me all the more.

"I did alright," I finally said. "A few O's and E's."

James diplomatically said nothing and instead looked out the window. Remus raised an eyebrow in question, but let the matter drop. He changed the subject to one that was really no better.

"Did you have a good summer, Sirius?" Remus asked, not knowing what I had done.

"Well, if you call running away from home and being disowned a good summer, then yes," I replied rather stiffly. No matter how hard I had tried to make light of the matter, I could not. I was no longer part of the Noble House of Black. Mother had probably already burned my name off of the family tree.

Remus' eyes opened wide. "You did _what_?" he asked in horror.

Beside me, James barely suppressed a smile. Remus had always been a bit of a goody-two-shoes.

"Yeah, I left home and moved in with James for a bit," I answered, with a careless shrug. "I just couldn't stand Mother harping on and on about how important it was to be a Black and how I would never live up to the name. And frankly, I really don't care. Anyway," I added, "don't you have to go to the Prefect's carriage. They'll be looking for you."

Looking at his watch, Remus jumped from his seat. "Oh yeah, I almost forgot. I'll see you guys at school, then, and if I can't talk to you in private at dinner, meet me by the willow before lights out." He grinned wolfishly, "We have some plans to make." He ran out of the compartment, tugging at his grubby robes.

James turned to me with a broad smile. "Poor Moony, we're such a bad influence on him."

I returned the grin. "One moment, he's the nerdy little prefect; the next, he's a scoundrel like we are." James laughed at my use of Filch's name for us. "Without him, we wouldn't have half the fun we do," I added mischievously.

The door to the compartment opened and Peter Pettigrew, the fourth of our close-knit group known as the Marauders, entered looking harried.

"What's up with you, Wormtail?" James inquired with a raised eyebrow.

Peter sat down across from us. "I nearly missed the train," he began. "I jumped on the last car before it left the station. That's why I'm so late getting here, seeing that you took one of the compartments near the front."

It was then that I noticed the purpling mark on his cheek.

"Is something wrong, Peter?" I asked worriedly.

He shook his head quickly, a little too quickly to be telling the truth. "No, no. Nothing's the matter; just nearly missing the train got me frightened for a bit."

I was about to push further and ask where he got the bruise from, but James elbowed me and murmured in my ear while Peter glanced out the window. "Leave it alone, Padfoot. He'll tell us when he's ready."

Grudgingly, I nodded, but inside I still seethed. Just because Peter was smaller and weaker than everyone else, people enjoyed bullying him. Poor kid couldn't even fight back. That was why James and I had befriended him in the first place, he need our help and our friendship.

"What should we do this year to torture Snivellus?" James asked, his voice malicious. "Last year's hanging him by his toes was awful fun. How about we give him some shampoo for Christmas?"

Distracted by James' devious plans, I let Peter's dilemma vanish from my mind.

"Maybe making his cauldron shrink during potions," I said, matching his tone. "Or what about locking him in the girl's lavatory with Moaning Myrtle?" Peter giggled at this, but then, a better thought came to me. "Oh, here's a great idea. What if we write a letter to Lily, saying that it's from Snivelly, asking her to go to the Yule Ball with him? That would be great fun."

James frowned. "No, I don't want to involve Lily. She already hates me as is, and she'd guess right away who wrote the letter."

"Sorry," I said quickly. "What if we - "

Peter looked up at the door, his rodent like face shining with perspiration. My eyes followed his and saw the subject of our conversation standing there, backed by my least favourite cousin, Bellatrix.

James, his face emotionless, asked, "What do you want, Snivelly? We were just making our plans for you this year."

"It isn't you we want to talk to, Potter," Severus Snape sneered. "Bella wants to see her cousin for what will hopefully be the last time."

Bellatrix stepped forward, her sleek black hair piled on her elegant head and her pale skin glowing with beauty spells. She was probably the worst of all my family; the one closest to my age, but the one who hated me the most.

"Well, well cousin," she said, her voice like silk. "You forgot to say good-bye before running off. Your poor mother is so worried about you."

"Let her worry," I said, trying to keep my voice even. "I really don't care anymore."

Her smile was not warm, nor did it reach her snapping eyes. "She burned you off the family tree at the first instant you were out the door, but you probably know that already. Poor little Sirius. Always the one who could never belong. I hope you're happy with your Mudbloods."

With that, she turned and left, but Snape remained at the door. At the mention of Mudbloods, James jumped from his seat, his wand in his hand and glowing.

"Since her ladyship's already gone," he gritted through his teeth. "It looks like you'll have to pay for her words, Snivellus."

"Tut, tut, Potter," Snape replied coolly, his arms crossed in front of his thin chest. "No magic on the train, remember? Your little prefect friend will have to give you a detention. You wouldn't want that, would you?"

James' hazel eyes were burning with hatred. "If you don't want me to scorch your greasy hair, then you better get out of here and not let me see you for a long time, Snivellus."

"One day, Potter," Snape replied, his black eyes shining with almost demonic ferocity. "You will realize who is the more powerful of the two of us. One day, you will get what you deserve."

He left the compartment with a swirl of his patched and dusty robes. Peter cringed and sunk further into his seat. James and I exchanged worried glances.

"What do you think he meant by that?" I asked him, my eyes wide. I may have not been afraid of Snape, but his words chilled me to the bone.

"I don't know," he replied, his eyes bright with determination. "But we will have to be ready for whatever it is."

I desperately hoped that he was right. Trouble was ahead and we would have to meet it. The Marauders would fight back, together as always.


	2. Prongs

_Author's Note_: Due to the complete ignorance of some people who obviously do not properly know their canon nor have visited the HP Lexicon, please note that James was only a seeker in the PS/SS movie. In the books, he was a chaser, hence my use of that as his Quidditch position. Please remember that the movies and books are contained within separate canonical spheres.

* * *

**Prongs**

I am in love. Disbelieve it if you have to, but this time it's for real. I, the fearless Chaser, the mischievous prankster, the most popular boy in school, am in love with, not my broomstick, but a _girl_.

And not any regular girl either. She's absolutely beautiful, with flaming red hair and sparkling green eyes. I can't help but think of her day in and day out. Her image is always in my head.

There's just one minor problem: she hates my guts.

Hopefully, we'll be able to get past this little roadblock before Christmas. At the Yule Ball, I want the most beautiful girl at school as my date.

All I have to do is convince her that I'm not a complete conceited ass, that maybe there's more to me than looking good and playing Quidditch.

Luckily, the Yule Ball is still months away. I've got a lot to work on before then...

* * *

This amazingly strange thing happened yesterday between classes. Professor McGonagall kept me late after Transfiguration (I think she suspects that I'm an Animagus, best steer clear of her for a bit). So, I had to make my way to old Binn's class alone. Who else should I meet in the hall but Lily Evans, walking in front of me towards the history room. 

For a bit, I just followed her, watching the way she walked so gracefully and the way her hair shone in the afternoon sun. Then I noticed that her book-bag, weighed down with textbooks (which I rarely ever carried), was ripping at the seam.

"Hey Evans!" I called to her. "You're bag - "

She turned at the sound of her name, the movement causing the rip to grow, spilling her books and parchment across the floor.

With a dark glare at me, she knelt down to pick up her belongings. I bent down beside her to help, but before I knew it, her wand was under my nose. I stumbled back, surprised.

"No magic in the halls, remember Evans?" I said, trying to keep my voice light. "I was only going to help you."

Her green eyes were glaring at me with such menace that I was nearly afraid of what she would do to me.

"How do I know that you didn't cause my bag to rip on purpose so that you would have another excuse to talk to me, Potter," she asked, her voice harsh and biting. "For the past five years, you've pestered me, it's time for you to stop."

I was, for the first time in my life, speechless. No one had ever told me what to do before; I had always done what I'd wanted.

"Well, are you going to answer me, or are you just going to stand there looking stupid?" she inquired with great impatience.

"In case you haven't noticed, Evans," I managed to say. "But I haven't asked you out for nearly a month now. I was simply walking down the hallway behind you and saw that your bag was about to rip, so I called out to tell you."

She lowered her wand, but her eyes still showed no sign of belief.

"_You_ were trying to be nice to someone? I thought the only one you cared about was yourself," she stated bluntly.

How could I tell her that I would easily care for her if she let me? I had been a damned fool in thinking that she would like my showing off. She clearly hated me for it.

"If you knew me better, Lily, then you'd see that what you say isn't true," I said, calling her by given name for the first time. "I care about my friends more than you could ever imagine."

Anger flowed through my veins, though I wasn't completely sure if it was directed at her or at myself. Without looking at her, I strode down the hall to the history classroom and entered quietly, not that I needed to as Binns never noticed anything.

I may act like a jerk most of the time, boasting of my Quidditch skills and picking on Snape (he does deserve it, I won't change _that_ part of me), but really, can't she see the way that I look after Wormtail, making sure that no one beats him up, or the way that I helped make Moony more sociable and less afraid of what people thought of him? I'm a lot deeper than she thinks I am.

I just have to prove it to her.

* * *

My plan is in full motion now. For the past couple weeks, I've practically ignored Snape, to the point where Padfoot was shocked when I refused to play another trick on him. In classes, I've become more serious and studious, making Moony raise his eyebrows when I answered a question in Potions without a hint of sarcasm. There's one thing I won't do though, and that's play down Quidditch. It's the best sport ever created and I'm not about to deny it anytime soon. 

The Yule Ball is in two weeks and I know for sure that Lily hasn't accepted anyone's invitation to go with her. A couple of times, I could have sworn that Moony was about to ask her, but he would look up at the sky and turn away. I knew what he was thinking about: the moon, his greatest enemy, and his lie to Dumbledore.

I think that the only people going alone to the Yule Ball right now are Lily and us Marauders, and of course Snape, but he doesn't count.

Last night, Padfoot, Moony, Wormtail, and I met in the Shrieking Shack to talk. The full moon wasn't for another couple of days, so Moony was safe, but he was still slightly pale.

Padfoot lounged on the windowsill, somehow looking comfortable in the least comfortable of places. "So what's going on, Prongs? Are you going to get Lily to go with you or are you going stag like the rest of us?"

I ignored his pun and leaned against the wall I was standing beside.

"I can't do it alone, guys," I admitted. "I need your help."

Wormtail looked surprised. "But what can we do? You've completely changed your style, yet she's done nothing about it."

"Why don't you just tell her how you feel, James?" Moony suggested. "Lily will like you better if you tell her the truth rather than just asking her to go out with you again. Goodness knows _that_ doesn't work."

Padfoot snickered. "That's the Moony way, for sure." Then his face went serious. "Prongs, you should just be yourself. You're not as much of a prig as you pretend to be. We know that you're smart, courageous, and willing to do what's right, but she doesn't."

"But that's what I've been trying to do for the past month!" I exclaimed. "And where has that gotten me? I'm probably the laughingstock of the school now because I, James Potter, can't get a girl to like me!"

"No, that's my job," Sirius said with a grin. "Tomorrow, go up to her at breakfast and ask her to go to the ball with you. Tell her that you really like her and would be honoured if she accepted you. That should do the trick."

"I can't talk like that!"

"Well, maybe you should. Girls like that sort of poetic romantic crap."

Exasperated, I turned and kicked the wall, making dust fly up in a huge cloud. None of the others spoke, but I was sure they were having a silent conversation behind me.

I turned back to face them. "Fine then! I will ask her tomorrow, just you see."

* * *

"Bloody hell," I muttered to myself this morning while trying to comb my hair. Nothing seemed to make it sit flat, not even globs of grease. From my trunk, I carefully chose my cleanest set of robes and my lucky socks. I would need all the luck I could get. 

The four of us walked down to breakfast that morning, Wormtail gleefully leading with Padfoot and Moony practically dragging me down to the Great Hall.

"Maybe this isn't such a great idea," I ranted. "In front of all those people...my reputation will be ruined when I say that poetic crap."

"Now, now James," Moony said cheerfully. His face was so full of amusement that I could have jinxed him then and there. "Since when have you, of all people, been afraid of doing something? You run with a werewolf once a month without hesitation, yet you can't even ask a girl to go to a dance with you."

"Exactly," Padfoot agreed. "It will not ruin your reputation, it can only make it better. 'What a nice guy that James Potter is', they will say."

"What if I don't want to be a 'nice guy'?" I asked incredulously.

Padfoot merely laughed and pushed me into the Great Hall.

It was full of people, all talking and laughing and eating breakfast. Right away, I saw Lily near the front with all her friends. She was so beautiful with the morning sun shining on her hair and face. Hell, she was _always_ beautiful.

I had to do this. If it didn't work, then I would quit the Quidditch team.

My head held high, I walked down the length of Gryffindor table, closely followed by my friends. While they sat down not too far from where Lily sat, I went right up to her.

"Lily, could I talk to you for a moment." It ended up being more of a statement than a question, but I didn't care.

She looked up at me, surprise evident in her expression. I hadn't said a thing to her in quite a while. What she saw in my face must have been good enough to make her excuse herself from her friends and stand.

"Of course, Potter. What seems to be the problem?"

I felt the blood rise in my cheeks and saw the eyes of her friends and my own staring at the two of us.

"Could we, um, talk somewhere a little quieter?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Not really, Professor McGonagall asked me to meet her in her class at nine to talk about my Transfiguration project and it's ten to nine right now."

"Oh," I said, probably sounding like the biggest idiot in the world.

"Well, Potter, are you going to tell me or just stand there looking at me?"

"You're nice to look at, though," I burst out, hearing Padfoot's snicker from down the table.

Lily looked shocked. "What did you say?"

_Oh well_, I thought, _might as well keep digging this hole deeper._

"I said that you're nice to look at and that you're the smartest girl I know," I said, not pausing so that no one would interrupt me. "And I really like you; I have for a while now. I know I act like a total jerk sometimes, but I'm not one all the time. And if you come with me to the Yule Ball, you'll make me the happiest guy at this school, probably in the world too."

Conversation at the Gryffindor table had all but stopped and I knew that everyone was staring at us. My friends, especially Padfoot, were grinning widely. The entire time I had spoken to Lily, I had barely looked at her, unwilling to meet her eyes, but now I looked up and saw that she was blushing.

"If you say it that way..." she began.

Now Padfoot stopped grinning and his jaw dropped. He must have expected her to say no right away, as she always had done. I would get him back for setting me up like this. Maybe I would bring a leash next time we went in the Forbidden Forest, he had always hated being captive...

Then it hit me. She hadn't said no.

"You mean that..." I said, utterly overcome with amazement.

"Yes," she replied quietly. "I do."

Now it was my turn to grin. And I did as our fellow Gryffindors applauded. Maybe the poetic and romantic stuff wasn't too bad after all.

_A/N: this part is very different from the first, partly because it's from the point of view of another character, and also because it's just the way it came out when I wrote it. When researching the Marauders, I couldn't find any major conflict with James except for those with Snape and Lily. However, it just seemed to me that his hatred of Snape is not very complex, it's rather similar to that between Harry and Draco, they simply hate each other. In OotP, Harry expressed his amazement that his mother could have ever liked his father, and wondered if the relationship had been forced. Hopefully, I have disproved that. _

_Anyway, this was a really fun piece to write. Please review with any comments or suggestions that you may have. _:-)


	3. Moony

**Moony**

Alone. That word is no stranger to me. I've known it all my life, more so since my 'accident'. There is no way to avoid it.

Even amidst my friends I feel alone. They know of my dreams, my fears, my secret, but they can never understand what it's like to be me. How can they? I would never expect them to. But it means that I must be alone. In this and in everything else.

My footsteps crunched on the snow as I walked towards my place of torment. Usually, my friends would have been with me, snickering at some joke of Sirius' or lamenting on James' failed attempts to woo Lily Evans. But James and Sirius were both in detention for accidentally exploding a Fillibuster Firework in the Great Hall, and Peter claimed that he hadn't been feeling well. Deep down, I knew that he was simply too afraid to spent the night running with a werewolf without the safety of Sirius and James' presence.

Peter had always been a bit wary around me. Who could blame him really? Spending as much time as he did with me was a miracle. He was as normal as normal could be. He had been raised to fear werewolves, yet now he found himself forced to be friends with one. It must have caused him much angst at times. Peter was not half as brave or foolhardy as James and Sirius were, nor was he as clever. He was a follower, he only did what they did because they were doing it. Even if he didn't understand Sirius' witty jokes, Peter would laugh because he knew he was supposed to.

I had always wondered if Peter had made sure that James and Sirius befriended him so that he would be safe from bullies. Whenever we had the chance, the three of us would try and speculate who the mysterious bullies were, because no one, not even the Slytherins, would dare touch a friend of James Potter and Sirius Black. But, even so, Peter would appear late for class or late catching the train to Hogwarts, covered in cuts and bruises. We could never figure out why.

Coming out of my brown study, I realized that I now stood before the Whomping Willow and ducked as a branch swung at my head. Quickly grabbing a long stick, I carefully poked the button which would stop the tree's mad branch-swinging. The movement of the tree stopped with a soft creaking noise and, just by the roots, a small gap opened, just wide enough for me to crawl through. Then I found myself in the tunnel that led to the Shrieking Shack, the place where I would become a monster.

The tunnel was cold and dark, but I knew my way well enough that I needed no light. Wrapping my robes tighter around my thin frame, I swiftly made my way towards the far end of the tunnel, keeping my shoulders hunched so that I would not hit my head on the low ceiling.

Finally, I came to the end of the tunnel and felt the ancient wooden door beneath my near-frozen fingers. My hand found the latch and I stumbled into the abandoned building that once had been someone's home. A place of warmth, safety, and solace from the surrounding world.

To me, the place was one of coldness, pain, and desolation.

I stood near the window, knowing that I still had a few moments to myself - as myself.

My mind drifted to Lily Evans, who I admired greatly. She was intelligent, generous, just, and also very pretty. I could see her vividly in my mind's eye: long fiery red hair, a tall graceful figure, those glittering emerald eyes. There was nothing about her which I could not like. It was evident that she liked me as well, but my condition would always stand between us if we became more than friends.

* * *

_I walked down the hall to class. Professor Dumbledore had wanted to talk to me about a new potion that could help my condition, and now I was late. The only people in the halls were stragglers, and certainly none of them were hurrying towards Professor Grimm's potions class. _

_Clutching the excuse note Headmaster had given me, I pushed open the heavy door into the dungeon classroom. Grimm frowned at my entrance, but took the note from Headmaster without a word and motioned for me to be seated. _

_James and Sirius were already paired up, that was no surprise. Peter had been stuck with a prissy Slytherin girl and didn't look at all happy. Miraculously, Lily sat alone on the other side of the room. _

...like she had been waiting for me...

_She smiled when I sat beside her. "Looks like we're together today," she said, "At least we know that the potion will work out with both of us making it."_

_I laughed, only peripherally aware of James glaring at the back of my head_.

* * *

She did not know what I was, and I could never tell her. It's true that she would understand and not like me any less, but that fear of what I could be would always exist. How could love ever grow from fear?

Lily must never think of me as more than a friend. It's best for her... and for me.

Far away, deep in the Forbidden Forest, I could hear the howls of one of my brethren. Soon I would join him. But the pain hadn't come yet. It wouldn't be much longer until it overtook me.

What else could I do to keep my mind off of what was to come?

Ah, yes. I could think of how to explain to Professor McGonagall that I didn't know what I wanted to do after I graduated from Hogwarts. Then again, maybe not. Any career path I took would be barricaded by what I was. Who would want a werewolf working for them? Even if I didn't tell anyone, they would have to figure it out eventually, as James and Sirius did.

What did werewolves do with themselves? Breed dogs? I suppose I could always stay at Hogwarts as part of the staff, a teaching assistant, or even a professor. Hagrid was expelled years ago, yet he was still here as Keeper of the Keys of Hogwarts. Maybe I could become his assistant; I knew the Forbidden Forest as well as anyone. I should, seeing that I spend many hours roaming it.

Not that I remember anything of my time there. The others would. They had helped write the map after all. I had researched the spells to make the Marauder's Map unreadable unless you knew the password, while the passageways and halls were carefully mapped by James, Peter, and Sirius.

...Sirius...

In my most tormented and lonely moments, I had to admit to myself that I liked him more than I ought. He knew my deepest secrets and I knew many of his. At times, he could be as lonely as I. Even before he ran away from home, he had never belonged with the rest of the Blacks. They followed that muggle-hater Lord Voldemort and were very open about their anti-mudblood opinions. Sirius wasn't like that. He believed that blood shouldn't decide what you could be in life.

If the Malfoys were any proof of that, then I agreed heartily.

Laughing silently to myself, I pictured the tricks Sirius pulled on his lovesick older cousin, Narcissa, when he was in first year and she in her sixth year. Narcissa had been allover the wealthy and pureblooded Lucius Malfoy, and Sirius had written love letters to her using Malfoy's name. She had been elated until Malfoy bluntly pointed out to her that he would never write such "romantic drivel". Even though the couple was now married (mostly because of their parents' insistence), Narcissa was not quite as obsessed with Lucius as she once had been.

Another memory, this one of Sirius, surfaced in my mind.

* * *

_The two of us were sitting in the Gryffindor common room, warming by the roaring fire. James was up in his room, cleaning his beloved broom, and Peter was off somewhere, I didn't know exactly. It was just Sirius and I for once. _

_We first talked about menial things: his latest prank, schoolwork, what we wanted to do after we left school... Then, he brought up his family, who had been estranged from him for the past six months. Apparently, they had entirely thrown their lot in with the dark wizard Voldemort. He was greatly upset, I could tell from the way that he struggled to hide the emotion in his voice, and perhaps afraid as well. Sirius may have pretended to hate his family, but they _were_ his family after all. He may have physically left them, but he would always be a Black. _

_He must have seen the look of worry and pity on my face because he leaned forward and with a whisper, relayed to me his greatest fears._

_"This Voldemort will do some horrible things, I know it, and he will take my family down with him. I fear that he will ask me to join him, along with my brother. Remus, promise me that the Marauders will never grow apart. Without you three, I doubt that I could keep my sanity."_

_I started at him with disbelief. Sirius, afraid? _

_Gently, I placed my hand upon his. "We'll always be there for you, Padfoot. Don't worry."_

_He smiled, but I could see that he was not comforted by my words.

* * *

_

What would happen to us? Better yet, what would happen to the world around us?

A cold wind blew through the dilapidated building, making my body shiver uncontrollably. Could it be that I was afraid of what was to come? No, that didn't make sense. I had transformed so often that I shouldn't fear it anymore.

Perhaps then what I most feared was being alone.

Usually, I would hear James, Peter, and Sirius talking somewhere close by. Simply knowing that someone was there was enough to calm the fear I had of the transformation - and of myself, what I would be afterwards... a monster...

If only Sirius were here. Then I wouldn't be afraid.

Then I wouldn't be alone.

The moon rose over the tree tops. Its cold glow gave a ghostly light to the snow-covered earth. My heart beat quicker. It was time.

Pain seared through my shoulders and I screamed. My fingernails grew long and sharp. Coarse grey hair began to cover my body. My face changed shape and my ears became longer and more pointed. Soon my mind would change as well...

Oh, what would I do with myself? Would I roam the countryside, alone and forgotten? Would I one day find peace and happiness? Would I...?

Blood... I can smell human blood... Not far from here, there is prey. Live prey. Hungry, very hungry. Must find food. Must find prey. Must kill prey. Howl. Run. Bite. Kill.


	4. Wormtail

_Note:_ all characters, et cetera, belong to J. K. Rowling. Sorry for the slow update on this story, getting into the point of view of Peter Pettigrew took a long time. But finally, after three months of thinking and two days of writing, it is complete. Enjoy.

**Wormtail**

Never again did I want to be found in such a position as I had been mere hours ago. To have all my dreams and ambitions set out on a platter before me and be forced to make the choice between them and the friends who have given me more than I could ever have imagined in near impossible. Today, I chose the latter because I owe something to the Marauders almost more than life itself. I owe them loyalty and friendship.

But what about next time? Which would I choose if the Marauders were no more?

Those are questions that I never want to have to think about. Not now, not ever.

Why was it me that was always picked on? Did I have the word 'idiot' written across my face? For the past six years, I continue looking in the mirror, trying to see if those words were really there because that was what it felt like. From the beginning of my time here at Hogwarts, everyone laughed at me no matter what I did. It was as though I lived in another world from the other students, a world that did not allow me passage into theirs.

When James and Sirius had offered me their friendship - and protection - I jumped at the chance of being friends with the two most popular boys of our year. Almost everyone loved their antics and practical jokes; I did as well, until I found myself the brunt of most of them. I should have known that being the follower of two clever, mischievous boys would lead me into situations that I would not have the wits to get out of. They entrapped me with their jokes so that I looked to be a brainless nothing.

And that's what I am. I'm not brave or smart or anything that they are. The reason that I was placed in Gryffindor escapes me like everything else in this world. Hufflepuff would have been more appropriate; I have no talents at all, except perhaps that of being a follower.

I could not blame my friends for their jokes or my being the brunt of most of them. They treated me well most of the time, like an equal. To be regarded as an equal by anyone like them makes my heart swell as I write this. Never will I forget their kindness to me, even in the heart of the darkness that begins to surround us at every moment.

My thoughts have continued to leap from place to place since I arrived back from Hogsmeade a few hours ago. I wasn't able to work on that essay of McGonagall's at all; most likely Remus will write it for me again. He always seems to end up doing that.

It's what friends are for, right?

Looking over at where my friends sleep, resting from a day of jokes and fun over at Hogsmeade, I can't help but be slightly jealous of their clear minds, so much at ease. Even Remus, the most troubled of us all, sleeps. Restlessly, and most likely in a dream world of horror and fear, but he sleeps all the same. Sirius lays in his bed as a dog would - sprawled across it - which is strangely fitting. Most likely he dreams of running through the woods once more, free from the hold his name and family put upon him. As always, James snores slightly and I know his dreams are filled with pretty Lily Evans, who has only accepted him once, and only then because he learned to be humble.

While they lay resting in the arms of Morpheus, I sit on my bed, huddled under the thick covers, scribbling in the little book my mother gave me when I first started at Hogwarts. I haven't written in it for ages, feeling slightly secure with myself, but now, after what happened today, I desperately need it.

Mother gave it to me just before I boarded the train, saying that writing down events makes them easier to forget. It would be like a Pensieve, I could place my memories within it and pretend that they never happened. She knew then that the scrawny, foolish child I was would get into many unpleasant experiences, most of them not of my making. My own mother knew that I was useless, and you know, she was right.

Before I lament myself into the depths of depression, perhaps I should explain why I'm suddenly feeling so...anti-me. It was something that I should have been able to prevent, something that should never have happened. But it did, so now I'm stuck with the consequences of a mind filled with self-loathing and distrust. Part of me wishes to have accepted the proposal, the other is glad that I did not. To do so would have meant selling my soul to evil, and I was not prepared to do that, ever.

The four of us - James, Sirius, Remus, and I - were all on our way back from Hogsmeade, light-hearted after a day of exploring Zonko's and drinking butterbeer. We were all slightly off-balance and clumsy, especially Sirius, who always seemed to drink more than the rest of us. James and Sirius were making all sorts of jokes, few that made much sense, while Remus walked along, deep in thought, probably for the OWLS coming up in a couple months. I was left to myself, for the most part, except when the two jokers decided to include me in their carousing (which is what it quickly became after a few minutes).

Along the path back to the school, I kept seeing strange shadows in the bushes or behind trees. In the light of the setting sun, their ghostly arms seemed to beckon me towards them, as though they had something important to tell me. I shivered in the cooling air, feeling goose-bumps grow on my arms. Something in those shadows was trying to tell me something and I was damned to know what it was.

In my curiosity mixed with fear, I had slowed down on the path, falling behind the others. When I realized that my feet had come to a stop, they were far ahead, not noticing my absence.

I was suddenly alone in the growing darkness. Not the best of situations, especially for me.

There was a rustle in the nearest bush and a tall shadow emerged from the surrounding woods. I gasped and fumbled for my wand, hands shaking. The shadow laughed menacingly, making my body freeze with dread. _Pertificus Totalus_ would have not been so efficient as _his_ voice was. It still haunted my dreams, even though he had left school three years before.

"What is it, Pettigrew?" Lucius Malfoy said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Are you lost?"

He laughed again and I was powerless. The snake had been loosed and I was trapped in its vice-like grip. No one could save me, not my friends, not the teachers, not anyone else. I would have to face the serpent alone.

He put his hand under my chin, forcing me to look up at him.

"Afraid, are you? Poor boy, I will send you on your way soon enough, but you must listen to what I have to say first."

I nodded, wanting him to leave as soon as possible.

"Good," he smirked. "Now, your friends are close to Dumbledore and have some knowledge of his plans, not much, but some. You, however, have always had your doubts. I can see it in your eyes that you do not trust the old headmaster. He is too all-knowing, too eccentric for your moderate tastes, Pettigrew." Malfoy rubbed his thumb along my jaw, making sure that I was listening to every word. "You don't agree that getting rid of mudbloods is bad, do you?"

I swallowed, but said nothing.

"Do you?" he asked, his voice rising slightly.

My thoughts turned to Lily Evans, the object of James' affections. All four of us loved her in our own ways. She treated me with kindness and fairness, something that few ever tried. She and Remus could easily talk about books and homework like two minds of equal stature. To Sirius, she was a confidante, someone he could always talk to when his family became too much to bear. Even though she was usually annoyed by James and his constant nagging for her to go out with him, he still thought her to be living perfection; she was the only girl who would ever make him happy.

She was muggleborn and I did not see any reason why she should not be allowed to learn magic. In fact, she was better at it than many purebloods. No, I didn't agree with Malfoy, but to tell him so was a different story.

"Let me phrase this a different way, Pettigrew," Malfoy said, turning up his lip with distaste. "The Dark Lord needs a set of ears within Hogwarts, more specifically, under Dumbledore's nose. You are the best candidate. No one ever notices you, anyway. Not even your friends." He leaned over me until I could feel his breath upon my ear. "Look at the way they've abandoned you now, just think of what will happen once you all leave here. There will be no place for you anywhere."

My body was shaking all over. Sweat trickled down my spine and my forehead. I closed my eyes, trying to shut out his cold, malicious stare, while building the confidence to speak.

"And - and where w-would I b-be with y-you?" I stuttered.

I could not see his face, but I knew the smile had returned to it.

"Power," he whispered into my ear. "That is what you would have. The Dark Lord rewards all who support him with things beyond your wildest dreams. You would be looked up at by witches and wizards around the world for your greatness. You could stand beside the Dark Lord as his most trusted servant."

"W-why m-me?" came the words from my mouth. I had not told myself to speak them, but they came nonetheless.

"He sees something in you that the others don't have," Malfoy replied, his voice soft.

All of the sudden, anger welled up within me. I would not allow him to bully me like he had in the past. No, I hated him and the last thing I wanted to do was join his leader. I wanted nothing, nothing at all, to do with any of it. They wanted to kill, to destroy. The mere thought of death made bile rise into my throat. It sickened me, as did Malfoy's presence.

"No," I uttered. "Not now, not ever. I won't help you."

His fierce blue eyes opened wider for a moment, as though surprised.

"What did you say?" he asked, his voice now hard.

Courage grew within me. Perhaps I was a worthy of being a Gryffindor after all.

"No," I said, my voice louder than before. "Leave me alone. I won't help you."

For a moment, I could have sworn that he would hit me with the ebony and silver stick he carried. His hand grasped it with such strength that his knuckles turned the colour of eggshells. Meanwhile, his face became a mask of fury more frightening than the gargoyles which sat on the roof of Hogwarts Castle.

"Did you refuse me, Pettigrew?" Malfoy asked, a sickeningly quiet tone coming into his voice. "No one ever does that, especially to a request of the Dark Lord."

I began to step away from him, but he suddenly put his hand around my throat, lifted me off the ground, and thrust me against a tree. Pain seared through my entire body from head to toe. Tears ran down my face as I bit the inside of my mouth so hard that the metallic taste of blood flooded my tastebuds.

"You will understand your mistake soon enough, Pettigrew," Malfoy spat. "One day, you will change your mind, I guarantee it."

Just when darkness was beginning to impede my vision and air was no longer able to reach my lungs, he let me go, leaving me on the ground gasping for air. The ground was cool and the night breeze refreshing on my burning and perspiring skin. He stood over me, an wicked smile playing on his lips.

"Good evening, Mr. Pettigrew. We shall meet again, you can be sure of that."

I continued to lay there, even after he left. They would be missing me up at the castle, but I already had my excuse planned, and as always, it would be easily believed. But first, I would have to calm my nerves. The physical wounds would heal, but the ones inside never would.

My only hope now that I am safe within the castle walls, is that I may never see Lucius Malfoy again and that me will never make such an offer of me. Next time, depending on the circumstances, the fear and the temptation may prove to be too much.


End file.
